The Trip
by Darkflame's Pyre
Summary: A father, a list and three small boys... A possibly dangerous combination... A segmented, belated birthday fic for Sam1. Happy Birthday hun! Movie-verse.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: Hi all, long time no write, I know. This is the first part of the three-chapter birthday fic I'm writing for Sam1's special day. It was over a week and bit ago now, which has made me feel awful, so I figured that she should have at least part of her present while I'm trying to write the rest around my last few weeks of first uni semester. The other parts will be coming over the next week, sooner if I get my way. I'm very much determined that it's going to, uni notwithstanding. :D**

**Disclaimer: If not for Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, I would not be able to play in this wonderful playground, so no; I do not own the Thunderbirds.**

**Happy Birthday Sam1! Xx**

Their youngest son was screaming angrily where he was perched on his father's hip, his second boy was squealing as he raced madly around the house, and his firstborn was singing discordantly at the top of his lungs as he sat in front of the television set in the living room, watching _Sesame Street_.

Jeff paced from the front window to the kitchen doorway, bouncing twenty-five-month-old Virgil in a fruitless attempt to calm him, a headache forming behind his eyes as he half-heartedly contemplated duct-taping Scott's mouth shut, and tying John to the nearest kiddy-chair. It wasn't that he didn't love his sons; he could deal with their madness every day of the year, if not for the fact that their mother just wasn't well at the moment.

Lucy was several months pregnant with their second fourth child (tiny, deceased Kent being their first), and not unlike her second pregnancy, this was a tough one. Already predisposed to develop migraines while under any type of stress, Jeff knew that Lucy hadn't slept the night before, and he also knew that from the way his wife was both rubbing her temples, and squeezing her eyes closed that she'd gotten another doozy.

Usually, she'd just have gone to sleep it off upstairs, leaving the children to Jeff, but with the way that Virgil was squealing so shrilly, he knew that there was no way that that would be happening anytime soon.

Lucy loved their sons more than her own life, in any case, so there was no surprise that despite Jeff's warnings to Scott that he needed to keep Johnny quiet so Mommy could rest; that she'd told him to leave them alone, and that she'd manage through her discomfort. It was clear that she wasn't. Managing that was.

Making up his mind suddenly, Jeff abruptly changed direction; heading towards where three-year-old John's giggles were coming from, along with loudly pattering feet. As his second son came tearing past; blanket-turned-Superman-cape streaming behind him, Jeff snared John about the middle, and hefted him up beneath his left arm.

Ignoring his son's shriek of mingled glee and surprise at the interruption of his game, Jeff headed over towards his oldest child, nudging him in the behind with his shoe to get his attention.

Five-year-old Scott's eyes were bright and questioning as he turned from Oscar the Grouch to look at his father, a smile stealing across the small boy's face as he saw his little brothers tucked into Jeff's hold.

"Can you get yours and Johnny's shoes, Scott?" Jeff asked him, shifting a now-grizzling Virgil into a more comfortable position against his hip, and trying to make sure Scott understood him over John's rocket ship noises. "We're going to take a little drive in the car."

Scott's face lit up like the sun through the storm clouds outside, and with good reason. The two older boys would have been able to burn some of their pent-up energy outdoors, if not for the wet, driving rain and wind that took up the world. It was not unusual for the two of them to be tearing about the backyard, even when it was slightly wet, but the two elements combined together made things dangerous, hence why the two boys were slightly more raucous than usual.

The little boy nodded brightly and tore towards the hallway, his small feet slapping against the floorboards. Jeff was forced to raise his voice to call out to him, warning for the thousandth time about not running on the stairs.

"Jeff?" Lucy's voice interrupted, tiredly. "What are you doing?"

His wife was looking wanly up at him, her expression pinched, rubbing at her swollen belly. Her hair was loose and curling around her face, and her violet eyes were weary.

Shushing Virgil rhythmically (he was still screaming blue murder to the world; for what purpose Jeff had no idea), he answered her as he set John on his feet, swiftly grabbing the little boy's shoulder to stop him from streaking off again.

"They need to get out of the house, and we need food. I'll kill two birds with one stone; I'll go to the supermarket for the week's shopping, and the boys can burn off some energy. Simple."

Lucy gazed at him somewhat sceptically, and Jeff was a little miffed to realise that she was sizing him up, as though gauging his worthiness to be able to effect a supermarket run with three small, energetic boys in tow.

"We'll be back in an hour or two Luce. It'll give you a chance to have a sleep, and we can always drop in to see my parents afterwards. Mom's always complaining that we don't bring the boys to see them near often enough."

Lucy nodded, smiling softly through creased eyes as Virgil decided that he wanted his mother and started waving his chubby little arms in her direction. At least he'd stopped his shouting, and was merely grizzling noisily now, his father thought gratefully.

Jeff handed their youngest son to her as Scott came racing back in; both his and John's small sneakers bundled up in his arms. The young father smiled approvingly as he saw what else his son had collected on his way.

"You remembered socks this time, buddy! Good stuff. Give me your brother's, and while I'm fixing him up; you put yours on, alright?"

Scott nodded, plopping himself down right there on the floor to pull them on. Jeff shared a fond look with Lucy, before toting his middle son to the sofa near the side wall.

It was a fair bit of a battle to keep John still enough to get the small velcro-ed sneakers on his son's feet, but in short order, three rugged-up little boys were securely fastened in the back of the family's dusty red station wagon. Lucy had ambled to the door to give her sons and husband swift kisses, requesting cheekily that Jeff actually follow the list that had been previously stuck to the refrigerator. It drew giggles and disgruntled looks from sons and husband respectively, as Jeff rounded the car to the driver's seat.

With no more further ado than Jeff turning on the soundtrack to Toy Story (the boys' favourite film), they were on their way.

##

Jeff realised when he finally managed to find an empty spot in the parking lot, that he might have just bitten off more than he could chew. John might have been only three, but he was definitely more independent than most children his age. Combined with Scott and his first son's propensity to climb just about anything that had a foot or hand-hold, and his grumbling, sulky youngest son; he knew that he was in for a challenge.

Once he'd finally untangled John from where the boy had twisted the child harness around his waist, Jeff put the little boy's feet on the ground, and then commanded Scott to hold onto his brother and stay by the door, while he hefted Virgil onto his hip again. Grabbing John's other hand as he closed and locked the car; fighting the chilly rain that ran down the back of his collar, Jeff led his sons quickly across the parking lot to the entrance to the grocery store.

Grabbing a shopping cart from the bay near the automatic doors, Jeff paused for a moment; trying to figure out over the noise, exactly how to execute the next step in what he tended to call his 'pre-flight checklist'. Scott was so far behaving well; waiting patiently for his father to be ready, so he was set on that front at least. Smiling encouragingly at his oldest boy, Jeff guided his three-year-old to stand between his front and the cart, while he set Virgil into the infant seat.

It was rather difficult to fasten the strap around the toddler's stomach, not only due to the fact that some undoubtedly idiotic teenager had thought they'd be clever and tie the thing into an impressive knot, but also because Virgil was at the stage of life where he just hated to confined to anything that wasn't a parent's arms.

Kicking and screaming the word 'no' seemed to be his youngest son's thing to do lately. Virgil had been going since he'd woken up that morning, and aside from the discontented squirming the little boy had done in the last few minutes, it'd been non-stop. As soon has he'd even thought about settling the little boy down, Virgil had started to flail his little fists and screwed up his face in defiance.

Jeff just bit his lip and tried to emphatically ignore both his sudden headache, and the stares and dirty looks that the other patrons were throwing him at the sheer amount of noise his youngest boy was emitting.

Figuring it'd be a better idea to keep his runaway confined to something as well, so then he'd only have to worry about Scott; the young father grabbed John beneath the armpits and set the three-year-old into the basket of the cart, thankful that the higher sides rose above his middle son's shoulders.

"Hold tight to the cart, Scott. We're going in."


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews on the first part. Made me giggle; the lot of them. Here's part two. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If not for Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, I wouldn't be able to play in this wonderful universe, so no; I do not own the Thunderbirds.**

Jeff discovered very quickly that the most difficult part of taking children to the grocery store, was the sheer amount of unwanted things that made their way into the cart. Being shorter than the cart's sides meant John couldn't climb out, but it didn't prevent the little boy from grabbing anything off the shelves that his hands could reach and putting it _in it_, even going so far as to hide them beneath the items that Jeff had already picked up.

Between the list, having no pen to mark it off with and trying to comfort Virgil, and then fielding Scott's increasingly silly and excitable questions, Jeff was unaware of what was going on elsewhere, at least until he heard an outraged shriek.

In the seconds that Jeff had been distracted with his brothers, John had taken it upon himself to open the box of Lucky Charms. He had apparently been munching happily on the handful of cereal in his fist; pieces having gone flying everywhere, the powder coating them spread liberally across his face, and even trailed through his curly hair. At least until the little boy had found it pulled roughly from his grip.

That wasn't what made Jeff's ire rise though, not completely; it was the young man who had apparently been the one to take the box out of his small son's hands in the first place.

The kid was around seventeen or eighteen years of age; wearing the blue shirt and dark trousers of the supermarket chain, and was standing unreasonably close to his son, with a smug look on his pimply face. He was apparently uncaring of the fact that the small boy was bawling, drawing both curious and disapproving stares from the people around them; exuding an aura of utterly superior disdain.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Jeff thundered, instantly moving the cart a more comfortable distance from the store worker, trying to calm Virgil and John while at the same time trying his hardest not to lose his temper completely.

Instead of looking at all cowed, or sorry for what he'd caused, the boy only sniffed and adopted a lofty tone.

"It is store policy that patrons are not allowed to sample products without paying."

Jeff pressed Scott's hand onto the side of the cart, silently bidding him to stay put, and then shot John a sharp look - quelling his hysterical tears and making the small boy's eyes widen with the knowledge that he was in trouble.

That issue having been dealt with for the time being, Jeff then narrowed his eyes at the teenager standing in front of him, box still held in his grasp. He was trying not to get too angry, because really, the employee was only doing his job, but with how stressful his day had been so far, combined with little sleep and the teen's appalling attitude, he was struggling.

"That as it may be…" He peered at the badge on the boy's shirt. "_Kurt_… You do not have the right to reprimand my son, nor is it appropriate to be so blatantly rude to someone who is trying to deal with something else. I will be paying for this item, and I'm sorry for my son's behaviour, but I do not, however, have an infinite number of eyes, nor can I do a million things at once. Do you have any affiliation at all with children, Kurt?"

The young man finally hesitated a bit, clearly confused with Jeff's sudden change of tack, but obviously figured that he should answer. He shook his head to indicate the negative. "No Sir."

"Well then," Jeff said quietly and admittedly a little angrily. "You'd have absolutely no idea how to deal with them. Go back to your job, and let me do mine. Let me also give you a little bit of advice, Kurt. Let the parent of the child know that they're misbehaving, politely and respectfully. Do not think that you can take it upon yourself to tell that child what to do. Am I clear, or must I locate one of the managers here and complain about a certain employee's abysmal customer service?" Jeff paused, mockingly thoughtful, before adding, rather dangerously, "Because I'm sure that once I explain what has happened, despite my son's misdemeanour, that same employee might just find himself jobless."

Jeff truly wasn't threatening the boy, but having had a similar job when he was a teenager and having rather enjoyed having the income it provided; the older man knew from second-hand experience that most companies wouldn't stand for such unprofessional behaviour. And judging by the look on the young man's face, he obviously knew exactly what his supervisor would have to say, and the likely result.

Suddenly abashed, as if finally realising he'd offended his customer (or that he'd probably lose his job), the young man nodded, his face dropping as he clumsily re-sealed the box and placed it back into the cart. John glared at him; small arms crossed and tears still streaking his cheeks, and leaned in close to his father as he could.

Going rather an impressive shade of red and clearly trying to curb the urge to retort, probably in defence of his behaviour, the employee muttered an obviously reluctant apology, before moving off.

Jeff found that he now felt a little bit guilty over having been so harsh to the teenager, but at the same time, he just couldn't stand people that acted so uppity.

It just made him even more determined to ensure that his sons would grow up to be kind, polite and upstanding young men; not young brats with a sense of superiority and entitlement over others. His parents had raised him the right way, and he was damned well sure that he was going to do the same with his boys.

Turning away from the retreating man's back, Jeff turned to look his middle boy square in his cornflower-blue eyes.

"John, you know better than to do that with the cereal. You're in time-out when you get home, young man. Understand?"

The little boy nodded gloomily, knowing that, despite how young he was, when Jeff said that he had to go to time-out, he meant it.

Jeff sighed, glad that the altercation had turned out to be relatively minor, even if it had raised his blood pressure a little more than he wanted for a Sunday afternoon. He didn't know how Lucy managed it when he was away on assignment. He admired her more than he ever had before right at that moment.

Virgil had quietened down considerably, Jeff realised as he straightened up again. Looking to his side, a fond grin split across his face, replacing the previous frown as he found out why.

Scott, realising that his father was somewhat distracted, had moved around to the bar on the trolley. Stretched up on the very tips of his toes, Jeff's oldest son was tickling his baby brother's little feet. Virgil was gazing at his older brother, chewing on the small fist that he had jammed into his mouth, but his youngest son was clearly smiling widely around the obstruction. Wishing he had a camera close to hand, Jeff nevertheless made a copy of the image in his mind to refer to in later days; when the inevitably repeated chaos made a return to his family.

Running his hand through his hair, grin still on his face, Jeff looked down to consult his much-crumpled list and saw that they needed to head to the tinned foods aisle. At least that area had the least potential for small children to cause mischief… He hoped.


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: Well, here it is, a full month after it was initially supposed to be finished. It would have been up over a week ago, but I somehow managed to delete all I'd written and was grappling with end of term stuff, so that delayed things, unfortunately. They've both been rectified now, so here it is, duh. ^_^**

**One little, flow/timeline correction thing before I let you go ahead and read. This fic is a movie-verse fic, and as the film is set in 2010, this fic is set in 1991. With Toy Story having been released in 1997, well I'm overly picky and just had to mention it, okay? ^_^**

**Many thanks for the lovely reviews, and especially to KatZen, who inadvertently gave me the inspiration for part of this chapter. Thanks guys, and I really hope that you enjoy it. It's finally up Sam1!**

**Disclaimer: If not for Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, I would not be able to play in this wonderful playground, so no; I do not own the Thunderbirds.**

He'd gone and lost a son. How on earth he'd managed it, the terrified father had absolutely no idea.

Everything had appeared to be going so well for Jeff, at first. He and the three boys had gotten three-quarters of the way down the canned food aisle without any hassle. Virgil, calmed by Scott's actions since the altercation with the store worker, had dropped into sleep; the toddler's face smoothed of scrunched eyes and wrinkled nose alike.

Jeff'd had to hike John out of the cart, because he didn't really want to end up with his small son being bruised as badly as a ripe plum from the metal cylinders slamming into him. He was now holding onto the metal mesh of the right-hand side of the cart, chattering animatedly about Superman, and how Teddy the Bear still needed to be rescued from the linen closet, because that was where evil Mister Robot had stashed him before they'd left.

Scott, in contrast had been standing quietly next to his father, looking to be wearing what equated to a five-year-old's expression of serious thought. Jeff had pulled the cart to a halt, in order to stack the crushed-tomato tins a little more steadily, so the bread wouldn't get squashed, when his oldest son had started telling him about the things he was going to do when they got home.

It was mostly stuff that he was going to tell his mom; the colour he'd decided to paint his crayon-drawn plane; why he thought the sky was grey today (because Mom was sad, and the clouds made him feel sad too), but the thing that made Jeff bite his lip in the face of amusement, was that Scott was going to be the one to tell Lucy that John had eaten the Lucky Charms.

Jeff had stopped what he was doing, and crouched down to his son's height, realising that he needed to clarify something with the little boy. He and Lucy had been trying to teach Scott (and John, for that matter), the importance of minding their own business when the results didn't put themselves or anyone else in danger. It appeared that Scott was still learning the finer points of that particular lesson.

"No, Scott," The young father had said, looking his son in his dark blue eyes. "Remember what Mommy and I have spoken about with you? It's not your business what anyone else does if you're not a part of it. That talk was between me, Johnny and the man, Scotty. It's not your place to tell your mother about what your brother did."

The little boy had looked rather puzzled at that; his nose wrinkling a little.

"But Daddy; I was standing right there! I saw what happened with Johnny, and that man was telling Johnny off! Only you and Mommy and Grandpa and Grandma are allowed to do that! He's my brother, and the man was a stranger! It's my bisness when they're _my_ brothers!"

Jeff had again been forced to resist the urge to laugh. "Yes, but I was right there with you and your brothers, Scott. I was talking to the man and helping Johnny. It's Johnny and I that need to tell your mom, not you. You were there, but you weren't a part of it. Do you understand?"

His son had nodded, but Jeff still wasn't convinced that he truly got the gist of what Jeff was trying to say. The supermarket wasn't truly the place for such conversations, so he had shelved the matter for another day.

Now he stood at the end of the aisle, his heart aching with worry and more than a little bit of fright, because while he'd been talking to Scott, Jeff had somehow managed to lose his small blonde child.

He didn't even know when it had happened. He'd been so focused on what he was doing that he'd somehow forgotten that he'd taken his middle boy out of the cart due to the lack of room. He was both incredulous and terrified that he hadn't heard his son's voice stop rambling because of his lapse in concentration.

Jeff also had found himself terrified that John would get kidnapped now he'd wandered off, which is, of course, any parent's worst nightmare. It was made infinitely worse by the sheer size of the warehouse supermarket they were standing in, and that there was absolutely no guarantee that everyone his boys would come across in their young lives were going to be friendly.

Both Jeff and Lucy had decided to stay settled in the town where they'd met and been to school when they got married, reasoning that they didn't really want to live in a small town, where everything they did and everywhere they'd go would be met with close scrutiny.

The residential neighbourhood where they lived had only a small grocery store, which was all well and good for picking up the small necessities like diapers, and bread and milk, but like today; when they needed their month-worth of shopping, the larger building; closer to the centre of town was the one to which they travelled when they needed their bulk items. It made things just all that much more gut-wrenching, when situations like this occurred.

Turning around on the spot, pressing Scott's hand firmly onto the side of the cart, so he wouldn't lose another one, Jeff scanned the knot of milling customers for any sign of his small son. The lurid orange parka that John was wearing that day was nowhere to be seen in Jeff's line of sight, nor was the bright, pale gold of his middle boy's curly hair.

Being the middle of Sunday afternoon, there were more than the store's fair share of patrons, coming, despite the horrendous weather outside, to do their own shopping.

His heart thumping in terrified panic, Jeff accidentally wrenched the shopping cart around too fast, almost knocking Scott off of his feet, and disturbing Virgil; bringing the boy into wakefulness with a jolt. His son let out a sharp cry, and then Jeff realised that he was back to square one, just with one less child to deal with. The thought sent chills down his spine.

Scooping Scott into the cart, despite the very small amount of room there (that had actually caused John to have the chance to go missing in the first place), Jeff got him to sit down on the box of diapers, before taking off back down the aisle, dodging startled shoppers and one baffled store worker as he went.

"John!" Jeff called, trying to keep the panic out of his tone. "Son, where are you?"

There was no answering voice, or running feet. Jeff looked around frantically, more or less ignoring Scott's rapid, jittery questions, and Virgil's unhappy screeching. This was not good.

He and Lucy had drilled into their little boys' heads, ever since they were old enough to understand, what to do if they found themselves lost somewhere; to stay where they had last lost sight of their parent, and then head towards the nearest person in uniform they saw.

The only trouble was that with the most recent event they'd gone through with Kurt, Jeff wasn't sure if John was going to heed those instructions, or if his 'stranger danger' instincts were going to win over the child instead. He only hoped it was going to be the former option.

Getting to the spot he'd last seen his son, Jeff got even more alarmed when he realised John was simply not there. All of his father-alert signals were going off, but he took a deep breath to calm himself down before he had a complete meltdown over it.

An older woman, closer to his mother's age than Lucy's, moved suddenly to his side; obviously seeing the look of panic on the young father's face, and thought she'd step in. "Are you quite alright there, young man? You look like you've lost something."

Jeff couldn't help but make a face. How right she was….

Before he could answer, however, Scott jumped in. "My brother's gone, Miss! Daddy's worried, and Virgie won't stop crying!"

Nope, he'd certainly not learned the lesson from before…

"Scott, hush." Jeff said, swallowing some of his panic to look at least somewhat in control as he looked the woman in the eyes. "You haven't by any chance happened to see a little boy, with blonde hair and an orange coat go past, have you?" The young father asked, a little desperately. "I was distracted with this one…" (He gestured to a worried and blinking young Scott) "…and he's taken off."

The woman shook her head, looking sorrowfully at him. "I'm sorry, but I haven't. Have you tried one of the lovely shop workers? Perhaps they'll have seen him."

Virgil was still screaming, and Jeff's headache was worsening, so he yanked his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers, and handed the jangling, attached keychain to his youngest son to occupy him. The little boy immediately crammed the side of the leather square into his mouth and began to chew it furiously, his eyes still swimming with tears, but the piercing screams he'd been emitting thankfully ceasing. Jeff ran his hands through his hair and looked at the floor morosely. Today was really going downhill fast…

Seeing the despondent look on Jeff's face, the woman put a small, wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "He'll turn up young man. If you don't find him pretty soon, I'd suggest that you go on up to the front desk, and get them to call his name over the intercom system. They're perfectly happy to help out anyone who needs a hand. And chances are your young one will be worried and scared right about now, and he'll answer to his name. How old is the little one?"

"Nearly four." Jeff said, quietly. "In three weeks' time." Straightening up, the young father nodded politely at the woman. "Thank-you for the assistance, Ma'am. I really must find my son."

The woman smiled kindly at him, patting his shoulder once before withdrawing her hand. "I'll keep an eye out for the young lad, and if I do see him, I'll be sure to bring him to the front desk and let someone know to page you. All the best to you, young man."

Jeff nodded once, and then pushed the heavy cart to the entrance to the thoroughfare at the back of the warehouse, where the aisles branched off of each other; his heart heavy, and his youngest son looking miserably up at him. Scott talked a mile a minute and Jeff couldn't help but worry that despite Scott's childish optimism, he might just have fallen into a whole pit of trouble.

##

Almost five minutes and ten queries of other patrons later, Jeff was way past alarm and spiralling right into panic. He'd back-tracked the entire route he'd taken, doing an entire cycle of the shop as he went, but there had been no sign of his blonde-haired child.

His palms sweaty with terror on the cart's bar at the thought of John being alone and scared, Jeff steered his oldest and youngest sons towards the large bar checkout at the front of the store that held both the cigarette counter and the customer service desk. He scowled a little to see the young man who'd messed around with John standing there talking to an older woman, in the white shirt of the store manager. The boy had his back turned to the main store as he was having his conversation, but as Jeff approached, the woman spoke quietly to him and stepped forward to meet the young father.

The teen looked positively alarmed as he turned around to see Jeff approaching, but the older man didn't even spare him a glance. His attention was focused solely on the woman, and what she could possibly do to help him.

"Excuse me," Jeff said, breathless from the long trip around the warehouse with the cart full of groceries and two young boys. "Have either of you happened to see a small boy with blonde hair, wearing an orange parka? He's gone missing. I've looked everywhere, and I can't find him. I only looked away for a moment!" He looked at the boy, Kurt, in appeal. "Have you seen my son, the little boy who was eating the 'Charms?" He knew he sounded desperate, but at this point, Jeff was beyond caring.

Looking rather more apologetic than he had the first time they'd spoken, Kurt shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry Sir, I haven't. I've been up here at the desk since I left you and I can't say that I've been paying much attention to the rest of the store."

The teen stepped towards him as he spoke, and he put his hand out, surprising Jeff quite a bit. His attitude was very much different to how he had talked to him before, and he was surprised even further as the young man spoke again.

"I have to apologise to you for how I acted towards your child before, Sir. It was rude and inconsiderate, and I hope that you can forgive me for my appalling behaviour. It was most unprofessional."

Jeff truly thought that it was a nice gesture for the teenager to be apologising, as his behaviour had been horrific but it was hardly the right time, when he had a missing son and two others who were getting tired and cranky for all the time they'd been carted about the store. He was just about to comment and plead assistance for his current situation, but the woman, tall, middle-aged and copper-haired, split in and spoke in a voice that carried a strong Scottish lilt.

"Thank-you for that Kurt, but we need to find this man's son, so why don't you head back to your post, so I can ask anyone if they've seen him?"

Looking embarrassed, Kurt nodded hurriedly, gesturing towards the woman next to him. "This is Marie, she's our store manager. I need to get back to serving, but she should be able to help you out a little better than me."

Jeff nodded, a little tersely now. Clearly Kurt had realised that the older man's temper was on a bit of a short leash and had retreated, a fact for which Jeff was grateful for. He'd have hardly wanted to blow up at the young man, not when he had clearly tried to make amends for what had obviously been a lapse in judgement.

"Thank-you Kurt, I'm glad that we've reached an understanding." The teen nodded, moving back towards the first bank of checkouts as he went.

Jeff switched his attention to the older woman, his worry for his son mounting exponentially as the long minutes passed. "Can you help me? Please?" He asked, placing a hand on a still-whimpering Virgil; his smallest son not soothed this time by Scott's mindless chatter, or his new toy.

The manager nodded assuredly, moving towards the telephone on the side of the counter as she spoke. "I can call over the intercom for anyone who might have seen him to come to the service desk. I can also call his name to perhaps get him to come up here himself. These things happen often in a store this size, so all of our employees are well-versed in what to do if they see a child on their own. What is your son's name?"

Jeff felt hope flutter a little in his dead-weight chest, hoping that his son was able to recognise the instructions that would come over the air, that was if he was still in the store though. Jeff refused to entertain the notion that John actually had been kidnapped by someone.

It turned out that he needn't have worried though; not about that particular potential issue anyway. Marie hadn't even gotten around to picking up the receiver of the 'phone, before there was a loud shriek and the sound of genuine laughter coming from behind him.

Jeff spun around, his eyes searching the empty space for the sound of that familiar, child's squeal. He didn't have to look far, for there, dashing across the floor towards him through the milling customers; the red blanket still tied over his coat, was John. The little boy was giggling madly as he shot into his father's arms as Jeff leaned down, and the boy's father nearly unbalanced himself as he pulled his son to his chest.

"Oh, John!" Jeff sighed in deep relief, burying his face in his son's curls. "Thank God you're safe! Where on earth were you?"

The little boy seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that he'd been out of his father's sight for the last twenty minutes, and was twisting about in his father's arms as he tried to look in the direction he had come from.

Jeff, realising this, lifted his head up and looked over at the course that John had come from, and a huge smile of gratitude spread across his face as he spotted the first woman he had approached in the tinned aisle.

Turning around to deposit his son in the crowded cart next to his older brother, Jeff moved over to the woman, and held out his hands to her. He went to thank her, but she got her mouth open first.

"That boy is as close to an angel as it's possible to get, young man." She said, smiling at him, her grey eyes glinting with amusement. "He came up to me, ever so politely and asked me if I'd seen his Daddy and his brothers. He said that he'd gone looking for his cape, because he said he'd dropped it when his Daddy got him out of the cart, but he couldn't find you when he got it. Little man was nearly in tears, but he was ever so brave, and he was telling me all about his Mama and his Daddy as we were looking for you. Weren't you, young one?" She reached out and chucked the little boy on the chin.

John, clearly pleased with the attention, grinned toothily up at her, and then resumed rambling to Scott in his half-articulated chatter, recounting his big adventure.

"He's very naughty for running off," Jeff growled a little, despite his utter relief for his son's return. "…but I really must thank you ever so much for keeping him safe. I really appreciate it. I don't know how my wife does this sort of thing on a regular basis, I really don't."

"That's for her to know, and you to find out, I'd reckon." The woman said, smiling mischievously. "I distinctly remember my husband telling me that same thing you just did when he took our four girls out when they were about John's age. I thought he was out of his depth when he claimed that he could do it, but then he proved himself quite nicely after all the chaos the twins caused when they decided it'd be a swell idea to go running into one of the can displays."

Jeff grinned ruefully. He didn't want to even think about how he'd have managed if he'd had to handle Virgil and his twin, as well as John and Scott. He shuddered though, as he realised that with Lucy pregnant with their newest baby, he might just be in for experiencing that self-same scenario very soon, especially if his plan of not telling his wife of his sons' hijinks came to fruition. He was just glad that Virgil had been securely fastened into his seat the entire time, otherwise he'd have been much worse off than he had been.

The old woman left after accepting Jeff's handclasp and heartfelt thanks. Jeff also gave his thanks to the manager, Marie, who had lingered behind the desk to ensure that all was well with the small family before she got back to work.

He knew that he couldn't stay in the store a moment longer, or his sanity wasn't going to survive the afternoon. What he missed from the list, he missed, Jeff mused, as he headed towards the nearest checkout.

As the young girl at the desk greeted him perfunctorily and asked him how his day was going (to which he automatically answered he was _going fine, thanks_), Jeff was hesitant to get either of the older boys out of the cart, for the simple fear that he'd have a repeat performance of what had only just occurred. But the reality of the matter was that he needed to sort out the items so they'd be packed adequately. He knew that that was one thing that Lucy preferred above anything else when she was shopping.

Telling Scott to stand _right there next to the cart, and hold your brother's hand tightly_, Jeff managed to get the grocery items swiftly unloaded, and both the boys and cart to the end of the checkout with minimum hassle. He might not have paid any attention to the cashier, which she probably thought was incredibly rude, but Jeff was just focused on getting out of the place as fast as possible. She'd just have to deal with it.

This part of the trip went pretty smoothly, he thought, knowing somehow, finally, his supermarket trials were over. Scott even managed to get his little brother to try and help their father by picking up the grocery bags to put back in the cart, even though Jeff wasn't really ready for that to happen yet. It was the thought that counted, and it helped to calm his nerves rather considerably, if he was being truthful.

It was only after he'd packed everything up, and gotten ready to pay, after the young woman had tallied up the price of the items, that he realised that there was a problem.

He'd jinxed himself with his optimism; because of course Virgil wouldn't give him his wallet back.

He'd hooked the spring-chain it was attached to on the front of the cart, so the little boy could play with his keys and not lose the wallet, but now Virgil refused to hand over the leather pouch, nor allow him to even open the thing so he could retrieve any bills from inside it.

Jeff sighed deeply, both trying to stay calm and ignore the amused grin of the young lady behind the counter. Clearly she saw this sort of thing with children a lot. Feeling the burning stare of the group of young teenagers waiting impatiently behind him, Jeff bit his lip and pulled his wallet out of his little boy's hands with a deft tug.

Virgil's eyes welled up, and again, the little boy began to bawl, leading Jeff to decide that the kid was well and truly headed for a nap when they got to his parents' place.

Quickly paying the service assistant, hoping desperately that nothing else was going to hold him up or go wrong, Jeff managed a great feat when he succeeded in holding John on one hip, pushing the cart with the other, and hurrying Scott alongside him as they left. The rain had let up rather considerably as they headed outside to the parking lot, and it was definitely a much easier job to get the boys into their respective seats in the car, and the groceries loaded, than the entire shopping trip had been altogether. He was glad his luck had come back now he'd left the cursed (in relation to small children at least) store. He didn't think that he'd be able to deal with any other mishaps at that point.

He was officially done for the day.

As Jeff sat exhaustedly in the driver's seat with a trunkful of groceries and one miserable, one chirpy, and one exhausted child respectively, he decided emphatically that in order to fetch the items that he'd had to miss off his list, he'd wait until his sons were either ensconced at his parents' house in twenty minutes time, or else come back tomorrow with only one of them, rather than all three. Or with none of them at all.

That idea certainly had its perks.

He'd get much more done that way, and he determinedly wouldn't listen to his wife's doubtless teasing about how like cooking, simultaneous grocery shopping and child-wrangling was something better left to her, despite how much he only wanted to help. As Lucy had told him many times before, and his mother had backed up countless times, multi-tasking was better left to the women in a family; at least where he was concerned, in any case.

He wouldn't ever admit it to anyone but his father, but Jeff actually had to agree.

**A/N: Thanks all for reading guys, I really appreciate the support. I really hope you liked it Sam1, happy belated birthday, my dear.**

**- Pyre. Xx**


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